In The Good Old Summertime
by Christine de Nuit
Summary: Late 1940sEC. Erik and Christine meet by crashing into eachother at the post office. They instantly develop a mutual dislike which intensifies when Erik is later on forced to hire Christine as a salesperson at Populaire Music. What they don't know is that


Hi! When I originally wrote this, I thought it was missing something. It wasn't quite modernday, but it also wasn't the period of the original story. So I've found a balance - late 1940s. I'm also hoping to add more details and depth to the original, and of course, an ending! I hope everyone enjoys, and don't give up on me. I intend to finish every story I've started.

This is loosely based on _In the Good Old Summertime_ with Judy Garland and Van Johnson. You would probably know the story in the modern movie version of that, _You've Got Mail_ with Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks. Anyway, please review and as always, enjoy!

Summary: Late 1940s EC. Erik and Christine meet by crashing into eachother outside the post office. They instantly develop a mutual dislike which intensifies when Erik is later on forced to hire Christine as a salesperson at Populaire Music Shop. What they don't know is that while they argue and fight throughout the day, they're actually involved in an innocent, romantic, and completely anonymous relationship by night, through letters.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything other than what I've created. All credit goes to Gaston Leroux, ALW, and Samson Raphaelson. This goes for the whole story.

* * *

**In the Good Old Summertime**

"Oh! Meg, this is lovely!" Christine Daae exclaimed upon opening the door.

She walked in and set her suitcase on top of the bed.

"There's no need to lie, Christine. This was the best I could do on short notice. I promise, we'll go out and buy some new things to spruce it up." Meg Giry followed her into the room.

Christine bit her lip. "Nonsense, there's no need for that. This will be quite well for me. Thankyou for allowing me to stay here, you are truly a friend."

She moved forward to embrace Meg.

"Yes, well, I'll let you get settled in. Mrs. Billow usually rings for supper at six, so you have a few minutes."

"Mrs. Billow? You have a cook?"

Meg laughed. "Of course! You know me, I couldn't cook if my life depended on it. Do you remember that Thanksgiving dinner I tried to make?"

Christine chuckled. "How could I forget? I believe it took a good week before that taste was out of my mouth!"

"And that, my dear, is why I am always assigned to setting the table at holiday dinners."

"A wise choice, I'm sure."

"Well, I should go. I'll see you at dinner. And please, let me know if you need anything!" Meg left, shutting the door behind her.

Christine sighed as she fell back onto the soft quilt atop the bed.

The smile slid from her face as she collapsed on the bed, willing herself not to think about it. Thinking about it would only cause her to cry, and she was sick of crying. She'd been crying for the past two weeks, and it had started to take its effect on her before she left home.

Home.

A tear slipped down her cheek. Oh well, what's one more good cry?

* * *

Christine Daae grew up in apartment near the city. Her father was a famous violinist, traveling the world to perform before kings and presidents alike. Her mother, who had been an opera singer, died shortly after Christine was born. She was an only child, and had lived a comfortable and happy life with her father.

He taught her to play various instruments, including piano. As much as she loved instruments, her main passion was singing. She was a born natural, and her voice caused many to be green with envy. They called her an angel, for no other could possess such a heavenly voice. Her fondest memories were of her father accompanying on violin while she sang soft lullabies.

She was now twenty-one and, up until two weeks ago, she lived with her father in their apartment near the city. She had managed to earn a few scholarships, granting her access to the nearby university, where she studied music. She had walked home one day to find the house completely empty. This was not unusual, as her father often performed concerts in the evenings.

Almost as soon as she sat down, her neighbor had appeared, telling her of an accident involving her father. He was not faring well, and had been taken to the local hospital.

Upon arrival, she was told he had but a few more minutes. She hurried into his room, finding she was unable to recognize him. He was badly bruised, and the right side of his head had been burned.

She gasped, not believing this was really happening.

"Christine?"

She rushed to his side. "Daddy? I'm here."

He tried to smile. "Sorry, I didn't clean up for visitors."

Tears fell from her eyes as she scolded him. "That's not funny. Stop talking, I don't want you to waste any energy. You're going to need all the energy you can get so you can get better."

A sad expression came over his face. "No, sweetheart. The doctors have told me everything. It's my time."

Christine's mouth opened in shock.

"No! What are you saying? You can fight this! You can! Everything is going to be ok! It'll all go back to normal! You just have to have the will!"

He shook his head. "I'm sorry to leave you like this, sweetheart. But I want you to know how proud I am of my beautiful girl. You have been given a gift by God, and I know you are going to be a famous opera diva one day."

She began to sob, and he was able to move his hand and wipe away her tears.

"Know that I will always watch over you. I shall send the Angel of Music to guide your voice, just like we talked about."

She shook her head. "Daddy, I haven't read that story in years," she whispered, referring to the story he had read to her as a little girl.

"You can do this, Christine. Don't cry for me; I've lived a good life. And you still have your's ahead. Don't be afraid."

"Daddy!"

"I love you, Christine."

His voice drifted off and soon he was in a deep sleep.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she kissed her father's forehead.

"I love you too, Daddy," she whispered.

He never woke up, and passed on that very night.

And Christine had been crying ever since.

Unfortunately as famous as Charles Daae was, he was not the smartest when it came to his money. He had developed a gambling problem early in his life and had never been able to overcome it. He had left Christine with almost nothing.

It was at the funeral that Meg, who lived a town away, had offered to let her stay at her house. There was a university nearby and Christine could start fresh in a new city. It was the perfect opportunity to escape, and she couldn't pass up the chance.

* * *

Which brought her to the present moment, a sobbing mess curled up in the guest bedroom of Meg's house.

Finding a new strength, she rose from the bed. She looked in the mirror and tried to make herself look presentable. She didn't want Meg to know she had been crying again. In her mind, crying was a weakness, and her pride was too great for that.

When she had finished, she headed downstairs and bumped directly into Meg.

"Oh! There you are! Supper is ready!" She took Christine's arm and began to lead her to the dining room.

"What are we having?"

"Mrs. Billow has made a new Italian dish. It is called 'pizza' and it is fast becoming popular!"

The reached the table and sat down. Mrs. Billow brought out their supper and they began to eat this strange food.

_Whatever would they come up with next?_ she thought, thoroughly enjoying her first bite.


End file.
